Chapter 17 – Blair
He knows. He fuckin’ knows.
My plan to hide the pregnancy until my mission here was accomplished was now busted. His possessive words of ownership still echoed in the back of my mind, and I hated how much authority he had over me.
I’d been too numb to speak last night when he stumbled onto me with the test tube in my hand. This was because he was the last person I expected to see in my room. He’d never come in before—for any reason—yet last night, he walked in like he was determined to find out what I was hiding.
His presence in my room was proof that my avoidance had sparked something in him. I had unintentionally drawn his attention, giving him reasons to suspect my behavior. He’d come around with one goal: to make me talk. In his head, he was already thinking the worst, suspicious of my every move.
The truth was, the only thing that saved me from his wrath last night was this pregnancy. It diverted his attention and focus from the real deal.
The second he found out I was carrying his child, his dark expression lightened. His mask of fury slipped, replaced by something that looked a lot like delight. He was pleased with the revelation, and because of that hidden joy, he didn’t push—didn’t ask questions about anything else.
He likely assumed that my strange behavior was tied to the pregnancy. Good. That meant that he was still in the dark about my true mission. I was grateful that I wasn’t caught—that my cover wasn’t blown. However, there was just one problem now: one big problem.
The twenty-four-hour surveillance over me.
I didn’t need to see the guards watching me to know I was being monitored. I felt their presence everywhere around the house—shadows in the garden, in the hallways, and even outside my window.
It was like he’d doubled the security around my room just to make sure I wouldn’t try anything stupid. Like attempting to run away again. I felt more like a prisoner now than I had in a long time.
I couldn’t so much as walk around the house without sensing someone’s unwavering gaze. And each time I looked back, I’d always spot a guard standing in the distance. I missed the days when I could roam the halls and the vast estate without worrying about anyone breathing down my neck.
I’d lost that freedom now, and it was so frustrating. I felt trapped: unable to run, and unable to complete the mission with all these eyes on me.
Angered by this new order, I stormed into his study that morning, furious. I pushed the doors open and stormed in, ready to cause trouble. My confidence was based on the fact that I was carrying his child; he wouldn’t dare hurt me in this state.
“What is wrong with you!” I barked, my chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.
Seated in his swivel chair, he gave me the look that said, God, not this again. “Good morning to you, too,” he said softly, brows raised in shock.
“Why are you watching my every move? Why are your men always breathing down my neck?!” The words burst out of my mouth in an angry rush. “Everywhere I turn, I see them. I need some space, for Christ’s sake. Stop suffocating me!”
He leaned back in his chair, his cold eyes never leaving my face. “You need space?”
“Yes!” I blurted out. “I need some time to think, to process things, and I can’t do that within these walls.”
His eyebrows arched, and a small mocking grin crept across the corners of his lips. “You can’t think within these walls?”
Oh, girl, that’s a trap. He’s mad, a voice whispered in my head.
I panicked when he slowly rose from his chair and walked around his desk. My jaw tightened as I watched him approach me with menacing steps, his black suit gleaming in the soft light. The closer he drew to me, the faster my heart raced in my chest.
Nik halted before me, his imposing frame towering over me. “How long do you think you’ll last in the outside world?”
My eyes narrowed, scowl deepening. “I was doing just fine on my own before I got dragged into your world. Or did you forget?”
“You weren’t pregnant with a Tarasov baby at the time,” he said, his voice calm but disturbing. “That child in your womb is a blessing. But it’s also a curse because now, it’s made you a potential target for anyone who has a grudge against me.”
Shit. He’s got a point.
“Would you like to guess how many people have a grudge against me?”
I swallowed hard, glaring at him.
“These walls you hate so much are the only thing keeping you alive right now. So, show some appreciation.”
I seethed in silence, my blood boiling with anger as I looked into those cold, hollow eyes of his. He stood there like a statue, exuding an air of authority and control. And I hated it. God! I hated it so much.
His calmness in this situation infuriated me even more, especially because he had me exactly where he wanted me: in the palm of his fuckin’ hand.
“I’d rather take my chances out there than spend another minute in this cursed place,” I began, leaning toward his face with blazing eyes. “You’re not fit to be a father.”
His expression turned dark immediately, his brows furrowing into deep creases.
Um. I think you’re starting to cross a line now, that voice in my head warned me. But I wasn’t done yet.
“You’re cruel, ruthless, and your life revolves around nothing but death, chaos, and destruction,” I added with a low, venomous tone. When emphasizing the last sentence, I poked his chest on each word.
He grabbed my hand mid-air, squeezing my wrist. “You will watch your tone.”
“Or else what?” I challenged him. “You’ll hit me?”
The shock in his eyes was subtle—faint—but I could see it. I forced my hand out of his grip and held his gaze as if daring him to do his worst.
“I will not jeopardize the life of my unborn child just so that you can enjoy ‘freedom.’” He air-quoted the word, his voice low and dangerous. “You will remain within these walls for as long as I want you to.”
I clenched my fists tightly, fury rushing through my veins.
“Try to defy this order, and you’ll realize quickly that there are a million ways to make you suffer without raising a hand against you.”
His threat struck me like a dagger to the heart, but I refused to show fear.
Nik turned around and returned to his desk. “That’ll be all. Shut the door behind you.”
His cold demeanor and the way he concluded the conversation with a boss-like attitude were as impressive as they were irritating. His maturity made me feel foolish, and it only increased my anger.
And for the first time, I snapped, shoving books off his table in a fit of rage. My chest heaved with uneven breaths as I glared at him with trembling hands. Not out of fear. Anger.
He didn’t say a word to me. He just sat there, watching in silence.
“I hope you rot in hell someday,” I growled, irritated by the smirk on his face.
With that, I stormed out of his study, angrier than before. I went back to my room, slammed the door shut, and let out a frustrated groan. My eyes landed on the flower vase sitting on the nearby table. Without thinking, I grabbed the damn thing and threw it against the wall.
“Argh!” I yelled out my frustration, fingers swiping through my hair. “I hate him, I hate him—I hate him!” The words flew out of my mouth like bullets from a machine gun.
I tossed myself on the sofa, my feet tapping rapidly against the floor. Nik had gotten under my skin, slithered into my mind and thoughts, and I despised the level of control he had over my life.
But despite my fury, there was absolutely nothing that I could do at this point.
As much as I hated to admit it, he wanted what was best for the child, too.
In his own twisted way, he was securing his child’s life.
Of course, mine didn’t matter because to him, I was just a container—the vessel carrying his legacy.
I let out a heavy sigh, leaning into the sofa as a flood of thoughts swirled in my mind.
It was clear I was outnumbered and outsmarted—fighting Nik wouldn’t lead me anywhere.
I still had a mission to finish, and I’d need to come up with a plan to gather those pieces of evidence without getting caught.
Anger and frustration wouldn’t get this done; I needed to calm the fuck down and replan. The game was still on, so maybe if I played it right, I could just maybe make it through.